


Amok Time: A Bystanders Tale

by Perfect_Square



Category: Star Trek The Original Series
Genre: Amok Time, Canon Compliant levels of Violence, Implied Public Sex, Kirk get's choked nearly to death, Multi, Pohn Fahrr, Pon Farr, canon fight to the death situation, implied sex, they kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-15
Updated: 2018-08-31
Packaged: 2019-06-11 12:27:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15315489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Perfect_Square/pseuds/Perfect_Square
Summary: A fic in response to the fan-art posted by tumblr user Slashks depicting Spock and Kirk on the Pohn Fahrr Arena kissing with the Ahn Woon wrapped around Kirk's waist--implying that they stopped the combat in the midst of the ahn woon section of the fighting.  The fan art left me with a hunger for reading this particular story--but I've searched through the Amok Time tag extensively before and could not find anything that fit what I was looking for exactly right.  So obviously, I had to write this.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Credit to PrairieDawn for beta-ing this chapter and making me actually want to work on this story. This story would be an unreadable wall of text if it were not for her.

I am Stovok, son of Satak, and I was there on the day that Spock son of Sarek answered the call of _Pohn Fahrr_. This is the story of what I witnessed. The legend of a Vulcan’s _Pohn Fahrr_ sated, without blood, despite the issuance of the _Kalifee_.

I saw him for the first time on the plateau of the house of Surak. The bell ringers lead our procession and I followed carrying the throne of T’Pau. He stood watching us, his posture unsteady and feverish, as I have seen 4,379 times before. It was then that I noticed the marriage party Spock had brought. They were human—Starfleet officers. They spoke idle gossip amongst themselves.

The one in the gold shirt said, “Bones… you know who that is?” I did not hear the answer. The first continued,  
“T’Pau. The only person to ever turn down a seat on the federation council.”

The second spoke, with evident emotionalism, “T’Pau? Officiating at Spock’s wedding?”

The first again, chortling, “He never mentioned his family was this important.”

We ignored their chatter, and once I and Sepik--my throne bearing partner on that day--lowered T’Pau’s throne to the place of the officiator, I stepped aside next to the lady T’Pring.

T’Pau raised her hand to call forth Spock and he approached.

Wordlessly, she asked for his thoughts and he gave them to her. They bowed, and then she asked for all of us, “ _Spohk_ are our ceremonies for outworlders?”

He answered, “They are not outworlders. They are my friends.”

I, Stovok son of Satak, have stood in the marriage ceremonies of 4380 Vulcans--including my own--and I have never before seen one bring an outworlder nor call them ‘friend.’

Spock attested, “I am permitted this.” I silently agreed; by our customs it was true as long as these outworlders were indeed Spock’s friends.

T’Pau called them over. She would assess, and she would have the final say on anything that was or was not permitted. As officiator, she had that honor and that burden.

Spock introduced the first one, the chatterbox; He said, “This is Kirk.”

Kirk bowed, and addressed T’Pau, “Ma’am.”

The second one was silent and had to be prompted, like a child. “And thou are called?"

He answered, “Leonard McCoy, Ma’am.”

With the patience and dignity of her station, T’Pau said, gazing now on Spock, “You name these outworlders friends. How does thou pledge their behavior?”

He answered, “With my life, T’Pau.” Nothing less would have been acceptable.

T’Pau accepted his pledge. She announced, “What thou are about to see comes down from the time of the beginning without change. This is the Vulcan heart. This is the Vulcan soul. This is our way." She pointed into the arena towards the marriage gong. _KALIFFARR!_.”

The bell ringers began the ceremony, and Spock walked with purpose to the gong. At once the lady T’Pring intercepted him, and called the _Kaliffee_. The madness clearly upon him, he turned back towards us approaching as if to argue or threaten T’Pau.

Instead, the executioner--whose identity shall remain protected--stood forward stopping Spock before he could get even as far as Kirk. His wits addled by the fever, Spock sluggishly understood and turned away from T’Pau. After a long moment, he dropped the gong in concession and open sadness.

His hope gone, it was at that moment the blood fever took him.

Kirk, the chatterbox, asked “What is it? What happened?”

T’Pau answered the confused outworlder, “She chooses the challenge.” 

“With him!?” asked the overtly emotional one, while pointing at the executioner.

T’Pau shook her head, even though they could not see. “He acts only if cowardice is seen. She will choose her champion.”

The chatterbox looked around the arena trying to size up the threats to his friend.

I watched as the lady T’Pring did much the same, and sized up her choices one final time.

That was when the chatterbox interrupted the proceedings once again, and tried to speak to Spock in the midst of his blood fever, when any Vulcan would know Spock could not respond.

“Spock?” he called out.

T’Pau corrected his misbehavior once again, “Do not attempt to speak at him, Kirk. He is deep in the _Plaktau_ \--the blood fever. He will not speak with thee again until he has passed through what is to come.”

Then perhaps T’Pau tired of the bumbling manner of the outworlders, because she offered them a reprieve, “If thou wishes to depart, thou may leave now.” It would be a dishonor for a Vulcan to leave during the ceremony, but it would be a relief to be rid of the outworlder spectators.

The chatterbox answered for himself and the other, “We’ll stay.” It was the correct response. To leave, as I expected he would, would have disgraced himself as Spock’s friend. I revised my estimation of him.

T’Pau commended the behavior as well, “ _Spohk_ chose his friends well.”

The other one was slow to understand—hampered by his emotional prejudices--, “Ma’am I don’t understand. Are you trying to say that she rejected him, that she does not want him?” He seemed baffled by the logical possibility of his friend’s rejection. I would have thought that at least that part would be clear to a human.

T’Pau answered, “He will have to fight for her. It is her right.”

She announced, “T’Pring, thou has chosen the _Kalifee_ , the challenge. Thou are prepared to become the property of the victor?”

“I am prepared.” T’Pring answered in her slow melodious voice, and the bell ringers started again.

“ _Spohk_ does thou accept challenge, according to our laws and customs?”

Spock nodded his assent, slipping further into the blood fever. I recognized the look. I’d felt it once myself: the fever so thick I had felt as if I could not move my tongue, and my mind struggling to understand anything but the ritual words.

The Lady T’Pring shot her consort a look, and the chatterbox Kirk turned to McCoy once again, “Do you think he can take him?” His face was a portrait of open worry.

“I doubt it,” expressed McCoy, “not in his present condition.” The chatterbox was clearly upset--for all to see—including T’Pring who stood watching him.

“T’Pring,” T’Pau called, “Thou will choose thy champion.”

She spoke with a commanding dignity, “As it was in the dawn of our days, as it is today, as it will be for all tomorrows, I make my choice.” Her eyes flashed to her consort, a Vulcan by the name of Stonn, before she stepped past him and pointed directly at Kirk, “This one.”

It was an unexpected choice.

Stonn, forgetting his place, argued, “No! I am to be the one. It was agreed.”

Rightfully, T’Pau commanded him in his disgrace to “Be silent.”

“Hear me.” Stonn continued to argue. “I have made the ancient claim. I claim the right. The woman is—”

The lady T’Pring appeared mortified.

“ _Kryoka_!” T’Pau demanded, and the executioner took his place between T’Pring and Stonn.

“I ask forgiveness,” said the foolish Vulcan who should have kept his place in the first place.

T’Pau did not dignify his request with a response, instead addressing the chosen champion,

“Kirk, T’Pring is within her rights, but our laws and customs are not binding on thee. Thou are free to decline... with no harm on thyself.”

The human stared, and as he made up his mind T’Pau walked off of the officiator platform towards the gong. The feverish Vulcan approached her and performed the first miraculous feat of the proceedings: he spoke.

“T’Pau” he said.

“Thou speaks?” T’Pau interrupted, allowing astonishment in her tone.

“My friend… does not understand.”

“The choice has been made, _Spohk_. It is up to him now.”

“He does not… know. … I will do… what I must… T’Pau… But not with him! ... His blood… does not burn. … He is my friend!”

I’d never seen such a thing. His speech came with great difficulty but I’d never seen anyone break through the fever to argue this eloquently before. I could only attribute it to his human blood. Apparently, T’Pau was thinking along the same lines.

She said, “It is said thy Vulcan blood is thin. Are thou Vulcan or are thou human?”

It was not meant as a logical argument—such a thing would be lost on a victim of the blood fever; It was a taunt—a method to fortify his commitment to the ways of our ceremony lest she be forced to call upon the executioner to keep him in line.

He answered anyway. “I burn… T’Pau. … My eyes… are flame. … My heart… is flame. … Thou has the power, T’Pau. In the name … of my fathers, … Forbid. _Forbid!_ ”

T’Pau squinted. It was not his place to tell the officiator what to do. Although this marriage party seemed determined to do just that. Spock at least could be excused on account of the blood fever. Nevertheless, it was shocking.

He continued, “T’Pau… I plead… with thee! I beg!” This at last was the appropriate tone.

But T’Pau had no patience for it. “Thou has prided thyself on thy Vulcan heritage. It is decided.” And that was the cue. The other throne bearer stepped forward and tied the ceremonial sash about Spock’s waist.

T’Pau stepped aside and I watched Kirk step forward. He asked, “What happens to Spock, if I decline?”

T’Pau answered. “Another Champion will be selected.” Kirk turned back to look at Stonn—as if to remind himself of what he must already know. He was obviously weighing how best to keep his friend Spock alive. T’Pau chided his thought process, “Do not interfere, Kirk. Keep thy place.”

The bell ringers cut the tension as they marked another period in the ceremony. Kirk turned away from T’Pau and conferred with Spock’s other friend McCoy.

McCoy fancied himself the voice of reason and advised, “You can’t do it, Jim.”

Kirk replied, “I can’t?”

“No. She said that their laws and customs were not binding on you.” McCoy argued.

“And you said Spock might not be able to handle him.” Kirk said, “Now if I can knock Spock out without really hurting him…”

“In this climate? If the heat does not get you, the thin air will. ” McCoy warned.

They were both fools. But it was not my place to say so. “Knocking Spock out” would not save him; rendering him incapable of consummating the Pon Farr at this stage would be a death sentence.

The bell ringers made another circuit marking another period.

“If I get into any trouble, I’ll quit—"

I was angry for a moment before I calmed myself. It was a hot flash of spite; I hoped he would accept the challenge and die. It would serve him right. Being the champion is a sacred duty of protection as well as a claim. To enter as a champion with no real intention to protect is the height of shameful, a mark of immorality and ignorance. There are many reasons the _Kalifee_ is to the death.

“—and Spock wins, and honor is satisfied.” Kirk said.

“Jim, listen, If you—”

“He’s my first officer, My friend. I disregarded Starfleet’s orders to bring him here. Another thing, That’s T’Pau—a Vulcan. All of Vulcan in one package. How can I back out in front of her?” The bell ringers marked the end of a third period of Kirk’s contemplation. The Lady T’Pring was smug by this point. Everyone knew Kirk would accept the challenge, and it was obvious what the benefits of such an arrangement would be for her. She would pursue divorce, and her consort would remain safe.

T’Pau demanded his formal answer. “It is done. Kirk… decide.”

Kirk stepped forward facing T’Pau and said, “I accept the challenge.” 

There was a momentary flash of something from T’Pau, and she spoke the ritual words, translated into Standard, “Here begins the act of combat for possession of the woman T’Pring. As it was at the time of the beginning, so it is now.”

That was my cue. I removed the _lirpa_ from the ceremonial place they had been stored in preparation of Spock’s _Koonut-kalifee_ , and handed one to Sepik.  
She called, “Bring forth the _lirpa_.” And we came.

I kneeled down before T’Pau and unwrapped the _lirpa_ on the ceremonial steps. While I kept my focus on my task, Spock approached. He knew by some instinct or some vestige of logic that this _lirpa_ was the one for him. I rose and offered the weapon to him. He took it. I bowed, but Spock’s eyes were transfixed behind me, staring, no doubt, at the chosen champion.

I was satisfied to note that I was of no more interest to Spock than the cliff walls. Nevertheless, I stepped aside and moved towards from whence I came before Kirk finished receiving his _lirpa_.

When both Sepik and I had fully retreated, T’Pau began the instructions for the combat, and walked back to the officiator’s platform.

“If both survive the _lirpa_ , combat will continue with the _Ahnwoon_.”

Kirk stopped her on the way back. “What do you mean ‘if both survive’?”

She answered simply, “This combat is to the death.”

He faced away from Spock and stared into the distance with wide eyed panic before catching the eye of McCoy and coming back to himself.

He followed T’Pau who was a bare moment from sitting down in her chair. “Now wait a minute Ma’am. Who said anything about a fight to the death?” he said, uselessly.

The emotional one pleaded, even though no one had forced them to do anything “These men are friends. To force them to fight till one of them is killed—”

The delay of the ceremony was insufferable. How long did they expect Spock to stand docilely with a weapon in his hands? Or perhaps, they hoped to take the cowards route and let the blood fever take its course while they spoke?

“I can forgive such a display only once.” T’Pau commanded. The executioner rushed forward to threaten McCoy at T’Pau’s signal.

McCoy was angry and defiant, and Kirk was thoroughly sad and defeated.

T’Pau continued, “Challenge was given and lawfully accepted.” She looked up to where Spock stood. “It has begun. Let no one interfere.”

Everyone, except the combatants retreated and then after the ringing of the bells, the combat began in earnest.

Kirk’s eyes followed the motions of Spock’s _lirpa_ , but Spock’s eyes were on the challenger. He twirled his _lirpa_ as if to mesmerize his opponent. Then as Spock sprung forward, they clashed: one pushing against the other with the bar of the _lirpa_.

The human managed to shove the half-Vulcan back, but Spock charged and swung the blade at Kirk while the human’s guard was down. He swung again and they circled around each other. Spock charged again, and Kirk knocked him down. But Spock was not to be dissuaded. He swung again, and again, putting Kirk on the defensive and backing the human into the ceremonial gong.

Spock struck as if to crush Kirk’s skull but the human ducked. Spock’s _lirpa_ impacted with the gong instead, and the rock broke in two with the force of his blow. Kirk took the opportunity of Spock’s distraction to strike back and as Spock fell he lost his grip on his _lirpa_. Kirk jumped over the fallen weapon and pursued the retreating Spock who was scrambling on his hands and knees.

The Vulcan turned to face Kirk just in time and was pinned beneath the human challenger who pushed against the Vulcan with the bar of his _lirpa_. But Spock grabbed ahold of the weapon and pushed back with his superior strength. As Spock struggled to gain the upper hand from beneath Kirk, he torqued the bar between them and smashed the blade into stone, breaking it.

The shock knocked Kirk back, and with that extra distance, Spock gained the leverage to throw Kirk back completely. With the man thrown, Spock grabbed his own _lirpa_ and stabbed and swung at Kirk again.

The human retreated backwards across the circumference of the arena staying just out of reach until he sidestepped Spock and used Spock’s grip on the _lirpa_ to execute a martial arts throw separating Spock from his weapon.

But the human did not or could not take advantage of the opening and allowed the Vulcan to pick up his weapon. And Spock struck at him again. This time, Kirk could not evade, and he fell backwards into the sand.

He watched the Vulcan’s next move as if he did not have the energy to retreat and was waiting for the last possible moment to evade. He did so as the blade came down, rolling aside and kicking upwards as Spock’s body came into proximity. Spock fell backwards. It was then Kirk should have gotten up to defend himself, but the man did not. Likely he was too dizzy and light headed to continue. Spock watched him warily, since by rights, with the only weapon next to him, Kirk ought to have had the advantage.

“ _Kryoka!_ ” T’Pau called, allowing Kirk to catch his breath. There was a look of indecision on her face, and McCoy took advantage, stepping forward.

Speaking boldly, McCoy asked, “Is this Vulcan chivalry?” “The air’s too hot and thin for Kirk. He’s not used to it.”

“The air is the air. What can be done?”

Without breaking eye contact, the human—who was a doctor apparently—tore open his Velcro side pouch and pulled out a single syringe. He held it out in front of himself for T’Pau’s inspection, his fingers covering the label.

“I can compensate for the atmosphere and the temperature with this. At least it will give Kirk a fighting chance.”

T’Pau hesitated as she took the information in and thought over McCoy’s proposal.

Then a breeze carried itself over the plateau, and with it the scent of McCoy’s syringe.

Tri-ox compounds are odorless. So, we should have smelled nothing at all. However, neurexoplan, the neural paralytic, that the doctor held in his hand was not. And so, when we smelled the sweet smell of neurexoplan, the marriage party stiffened.

I did not know if T’Pau smelled it herself. Her face was inscrutable. But everyone at my side knew.

There were three logical possibilities.

1.) McCoy was incompetent and was going to accidentally poison Kirk.

2.) McCoy was purposefully planning on incapacitating or killing Kirk in order to protect Spock and guarantee his victory.

3.) McCoy was planning on managing the precise feat of faking Kirk’s death in order to save Kirk.

None of these possibilities were acceptable. The rites of Kaliffee demand a fair fight to honor the death that comes from it. And again, accepting the role of champion without fighting with one’s very last breath to protect the subject of the _Pohn Fahrr’s_ bonded is a travesty. Inconceivable to allow. And impossible now that T’Pring and Stonn were aware.

There was a tense silence, and then the breeze shifted.

Spock’s animal eyes turned from his target—whom he had not stopped staring at the entire time—to light on McCoy.

McCoy finally picked up that something was not right. Perhaps it was the force of the stare on his back, or the tense silence, or the glance T’Pau made towards the executioner or some combination but something in his demeanor changed.

He went from entreating to very quiet and very still.

T’Pau spoke with measured calm, just as the executioner reached them. “Drop the syringe.” The executioner punctuated her demand by raising his weapon.

McCoy did so.

The syringe clattered into the dirt. McCoy glared.

“Ma’am I don’t understand.”

She leveled a glare right back at him. “Be silent if thou wish to live.” The executioner’s blade was raised to McCoy’s throat. “There is not a Vulcan on these grounds fooled by thy ruse.”

McCoy began to open his mouth to argue.

“If thou deny it,” T’Pau said, “I will have thou killed. I do not have patience for thy deceit.”

“The Combat will continue. Bring forth the _Ahnwoon_.” T’pau signaled for Sepik and I to come forward, and made an additional flourish at the executioner who responded by directing McCoy away from T’Pau and back to the side of the arena. Yet the doctor was resistant—glowering even as he was shoved backwards.

“He does not stand a chance!” he yelled emotionally, “He’ll die!” The executioner shoved him further back. “You call yourselves civilized!” He sounded distraught, but I ignored him and performed my duties. 

As the bell ringers shook the bells, Sepik and I revealed the _Ahnwoon_ from beneath the ceremonial cloth in tandem—as we had practiced—and stepped forward to deliver the sacred weapon. The doctor, meanwhile, continued to yell and disgrace himself—and by extension Spock who had pledged his life on McCoy's behavior. 

The challenger Kirk was deeply out of breath, heaving bodily with the effort to replenish his oxygen supply. Yet he still spoke, “It’ll…,” he paused for breath, “be o.k. Bones.” Another deep shaking breath, “I love high altitude sports.” His voice was weak.

The Doctor yelled, “This is not the damn Rocky Mountains, Jim!” He pushed forward against the executioner, who, lacking a command from T’Pau otherwise, humored his emotionalism and refrained from cutting his throat open. “Goddamnit Jim! Why’d you have to go do this?!” He shoved against the executioner again, who allowed the doctor further visual access of the arena--and lowered his weapon lest the reckless man cut his own throat open by mistake.

By this point, I had safely delivered the _Ahnwoon_ to Spock and was retreating out of the arena with his former _lirpa_. 

I did not suspect what would happen next--as I had never before been party to such illogical behavior in the un-fevered attendees of the _Koonut-Kalifee_. The doctor yelled a final comment: the exact words were “I can’t watch you die, Jim.” And then in a fit of emotionalism, the human charged the arena. It was an action of such shear unpredictability and illogic that it caught the executioner off guard and the emotional human managed to tackle the challenger before anything could be done. 

I am unsure of what Doctor McCoy hoped to accomplish throwing himself atop of the challenger, but the response from Spock was immediate. He let out a loud reverberating growl and charged the two of them. 

The doctor pressed his eyes closed and clutched protectively over the other human. “Bones! What do you think you’re--” Kirk started to ask, as he tried to push the doctor off.

The question was cut off by the half-Vulcan who flung the interloper off of Kirk. The obtruder took most of the momentum in a roll and skidded to a stop in front of T’Pau.

For 2.5 seconds, Spock appeared confused. He blinked down at Kirk, but his eyes found the _Ahnwoon_ in Kirk’s hands and the confusion resolved itself. 

He flung himself forward with his own _Ahnwoon_ in hand and wrapped the weapon around Kirk’s neck in order to choke the human to death. It was working; Kirk could not breathe and the human had few options as he was lying with his back to the ground and Spock straddling atop him.

It was not strictly impossible--in my 12 years performing my duties for the _Koonut-Kalifee_ I’ve seen 17 cases of a weaker opponent--rendered incapable of the Vulcan neck pinch--escaping such a strangle-hold. But with the way Kirk was fumbling, trying to grasp at Spock’s arms, it did not look like he would be the 18th. 

As Kirk choked to death, T’Pau narrowed her gaze at McCoy who lied below her in the dirt. “Thou have disgraced thyself and desecrated the rites of the _Koonut-Kalifee_. By Vulcan law, thy life is forfeit.” 

The executioner--who had approached during the commotion--appeared above the doctor with the blade positioned over the doctor’s neck like a guillotine. 

“However--” T’Pau began to say but was interrupted by the doctor slamming the previously dropped syringe into the leg of the executioner above him.

The executioner blinked, and tilted his head weighing his own focus and concentration--the first such deviation from perfect passionless stoicism that the man displayed in the whole proceedings. He looked at T’Pau.

She opened her mouth to say something, but by then McCoy was already scrambling up to his feet and diving for Spock.

Spock heard the doctor coming and loosened his grip as he turned to face the oncoming challenger--a guttural snarl building in the back of his throat.

He let go of the _Ahnwoon_ completely as the doctor reached him and rose to meet the threat, the snarl ripping from his lips. Spock sidestepped and threw McCoy. 

The doctor landed flat on his back.

Spock moved off of Kirk and straddled McCoy, strangling the new challenger with his bare hands. “No!” screamed Kirk. 

“ _Kryoka_!” T’Pau commanded. 

“McCoy” T’Pau called, “Remove thyself.” The doctor gingerly scooched out from under Spock who offered no resistance. She continued as he approached, “Thou has desecrated the rites of the _Koonut-Kalifee_. If thou, were Vulcan, thy life would be forfeit. But thou art human, and _Spohk_ pledged his life for thee.”

The executioner, who had not yet succumbed to the neural paralytic, stalked over to Spock who still faced down into the dirt. 

Kirk’s eyes widened in slow dawning horror. “No.” he whispered to himself like the breath had been taken out of him, and then he shouted,

“NO! TAKE ME INSTEAD!” His eyes turned pleading to T’Pau. “Please.”

She pursed her lips in silent contemplation that lasted 5.1 seconds. “Very well, Kirk.”

Her eyes flashed to me and then McCoy, “Restrain him.” I moved quickly to restrain the doctor before his impulsive emotional tendencies disrupted the ceremony further. 

The Doctor fought against me, shoving, elbowing, and biting but I ignored the pain and held him in a firm grip tight across my body. 

T’Pau surveyed Kirk. “Kneel.” she commanded. 

He did so. 

The executioner stalked forward from Spock to Kirk, swaying slightly from side to side. He raised his blade over Kirk’s neck. 

Spock turned to look with empty eyes. And Kirk whispered below human hearing, “Goodbye Spock. I love you.” Spock’s eyes widened. The executioner raised the blade up into the air--and Spock shot forward. 

The half-Vulcan grabbed his discarded _Ahnwoon_ as he charged. He swung the weapon through the air as he ran, and caught the executioner about the neck, and pulled. 

The man fell backwards and his weapon fell harmlessly to the side of Kirk. The _Ahnwoon_ fell loose from the executioner’s neck, but the man did not get up--the paralytic having finally taken effect. Perhaps, the half-Vulcan thought the executioner was dead. 

Spock ignored the fallen man, stepping over the body to make his way to Kirk. Kirk stood up and stepped backwards onto the platform in a combination of surprise and some protective instinct to look at his rescuer and potential challenger, but Spock wrapped the _Ahnwoon_ about Kirk’s waist, pulled the human’s body against his own, and fiercely pressed his lips over Kirk’s. 

The touch was lingering, and penetrative, their faces angling into each other to allow access. 

In the face of this development, I was forced to question my own mental faculties. Yet T’Pau had pursed her lips staring silently at the pair, Kurak and Shakek--the bell ringers had frozen--their fingers tense over their instruments, Sepik had dropped the bundle of broken _lirpa_ fragments, Stonn was openly gaping, and T’Pring looked hungry with relief and yet calculative. Her eyes made a circuit about the arena--just as mine had--and we locked gazes for a moment. 

While I and the others recovered from our shock, T’Pau unflurried herself, and sent for the nearby doctors and medical personnel to attend to the fallen executioner. The medical staff were close-by in anticipation of the potential _kalifee_ and the often life-threatening injuries suffered by the surviving party. 

It took only 62 seconds for Medical to arrive, and they set about immediately to evaluating and reversing the executioner’s condition. 

Sepik composed himself as well. Logically, since the executioner was unresponsive and I was occupied, the onus of protecting the medical team was his.

Sepik donned a spare _limein t’tostausu_ and retrieved the executioner’s fallen _shirpa_. 

He stood warily guarding the medical workers as they bent over the fallen man, appraised his vitals, and delivered an antidote. It took 34 seconds for the Executioner to resume breathing, and 65 for him to regain consciousness. 

When he did, he blinked, slowly adjusted his _limein t’tostausu_ , and scanned his surroundings. Upon seeing Kirk and Spock alive and engaged in sexual acts with each other at the foot of the officiator’s platform he stopped and stared for 15 seconds. 

His shock was understandable. By rights, Spock should not have been able to disobey and attack the executioner in his state, and further he should not have been able to display such sexual interest in T’Pring’s chosen champion. I had been watching for 127 seconds and I too was still awed that somehow any of this was possible. 

I could only think that it must be something in Spock’s hybrid biology. Something adaptive and defiant, something loose and unrestrained owing to his human heritage, that would let him defy the _Kaliffarr_ officiant. That would let him defy his preliminary bond to T’Pring. 

He should have burned only for her, and yet, there he was, his fires cooling under the lips and hands of the human champion.

Ultimately, it took 15 minutes. 

I watched and waited the whole time in anticipation of some change in Spock’s apparently fickle fascinations, some change in response to Kirk’s frequent distractions from his mate, and yet they--it finished on the sands of the arena. Spock’s fever subsided from his eyes and he looked around, blushing, embarrassed, and newly marriage-bonded to the human.

Kirk too was embarrassed. But as he hurriedly put his clothes back on, he was distracted by his mate’s thoughts, and giggled lovingly. 

Belatedly, Kurak and Shakek rang the bells. And T’Pau, instead of ordering an execution, recited the marriage rites. 

And that is the legend of a Vulcan’s _Pon Farr_ sated, without blood, despite the issuance of the _kalifiee_.

______________________________________________  
(The End)


	2. Chapter 2

I promised that I'd add another chapter when I finished updating the first one into the final draft. So here I am doing that.

**Author's Note:**

> **Vulcan Vocabulary for this story:**
> 
>  
> 
>  _Pon Farr_ or _Pohn Farr_ \--the Vulcan condition of needing to return home and take a mate or die trying also known as the Vulcan time of mating. It strips Vulcans of their logic rendering them feral.
> 
>  _Plaktau_ \--blood fever associated with peak of _Pon Farr_
> 
>  _lirpa_ \-- a traditional Vulcan weapon with a sharp ended blade on one end and large blunt end on the other
> 
>  _Ahnwoon_ or _Ahn'wun_ \--a traditional Vulcan weapon much like a long strip of leather with weights at the end. can be used for choking and lassoing.
> 
>  _koonut-kalifee_ \--marriage or challenge
> 
>  _koonut_ \--marriage
> 
>  _kalifee_ \--challenge
> 
>  _Kaliffarr_ \--a word T'Pau uses to announce the beginning of the Koonut-Kalifee. I use it as a slang name for the _koonut-kalifee_
> 
>  _limein t'tostausu_ \--mask of the executioner
> 
>  _shirpa_ \--traditional Vulcan weapon carried by the honor guard. Also what I'm using to refer to the blade that the executioner uses.
> 
>  _Kryoka_ \--stop
> 
>  _Kurak_ \--I'm using it as a Vulcan name, but incidentally it also means the iris of an eye.


End file.
